


A Tornado Flew Around My Room

by Lady_Oscar



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Anxious T'Challa, Coming In Pants, Crack Treated Seriously, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Not Canon Compliant, Roughness, Scent Kink, T'Challa doesn't have a refractory period lol, Throne Sex, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 09:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18340883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Oscar/pseuds/Lady_Oscar
Summary: It seems that T'Chaka also neglected to tell T'Challa that the Black Panther has a soul mate.





	A Tornado Flew Around My Room

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember what I was thinking when I started this, but after setting it aside for quite some time and coming back to it, I realized I had accidentally written a soul mate AU. I don't even like soul mate AUs.

No matter how many times as a boy T’Challa had asked his father to describe the effects of the heart-shaped herb, no patient explanation from T’Chaka could have truly prepared him for the way the plant would change him until he finally took it himself. Consuming the herb, he could only discover first-hand, was quite like being born again. 

At first the change that overwhelmed him the most were his newly enhanced senses. The world around him that had been so familiar was suddenly awash in new sounds, scents and colors. His heightened sense of smell in particular intrigued him. He quickly learned the ubiquitous scent of vibranium in all its forms and that his father smelled strongly of it. W’Kabi, to his amusement, smelled rather pleasantly of earth and fresh grass much like the rhinoceroses he trained. His mother Ramonda had a distinct floral aroma, although that was not a surprise to T’Challa given that she had more or less worn the same perfume for as long as he could remember. 

With time and guidance from T’Chaka, T’Challa eventually became accustomed to the powers the heart-shaped herb bestowed, including his sensory gifts, as if he had always had them from birth, even after the times it was necessary for the strength of the Black Panther to be stripped away… 

That was, until the day his family revived him far from home in Jabari Land in M’Baku’s keep. 

As he took his first few breaths of air, he caught an unfamiliar scent, and it almost made him stumble to his knees. Looking around the room in a daze, he quickly realized it was coming from M’Baku. As he continued to inhale the man’s scent, he could pick out the individual scents of the fur and leather that he wore as well as woodsmoke and something else in the mix that must have been uniquely M’Baku. It was heady, unlike anyone else’s scent he had ever encountered, and it made him sway on his feet so much that Shuri and Nakia each grabbed one of his arms to steady him. 

“Are you alright?” Ramonda asked. “This isn’t like you when you take the herb.” 

“He also doesn’t usually get tossed over a waterfall and frozen like a popsicle,” Shuri interjected irritably before T’Challa could answer. 

“Well, she has a point,” T’Challa said with a quiet laugh and inwardly hoped that his family would think nothing more of what just happened. As he finally stood up straight and unassisted, he couldn’t help glancing at M’Baku to see if he had noticed anything amiss, but the Jabari leader was too busy glaring at Ross to look at him. 

***

There was so much to do between the aftermath of Erik’s time in Wakanda and T’Challa opening the country to the world, that he all but forgot the way he had reacted to M’Baku’s scent that day in the throne room until it was suggested that the other man be invited to the council. So as not to insult M’Baku and to provide a show of good faith, the council elders decided that he would sit next to T’Challa. 

T’Challa prayed to Bast that he could at least maintain the strength of will to keep himself composed during council meetings, and he mostly succeeded. As he became acclimated to having M’Baku around him, he found that his scent wasn’t as much of a distraction. M’Baku still found ways to capture his attention, however. The man sat in his council seat much like he did on his throne -- as if he expected all eyes on him at all times, including the king’s. T’Challa began catching himself looking at M’Baku more than was probably appropriate, but if the Jabari leader noticed, he gave no overt sign. T’Challa could have sworn there were times M’Baku was glancing in his direction as well. 

Much to his chagrin, M’Baku even managed to distract T’Challa when he was absent. One day as T’Challa was passing through the council room before heading to Shuri’s lab, he felt himself drawn to M’Baku’s seat. His scent lingered quite strongly over the spot, and as T’Challa stepped closer to the chair, he noticed something on the cushion. Bending down to examine the object, he realized it was a small white shell. It must have fallen off of one of M’Baku’s skirts. Without thinking, he put the shell in the pocket of his tunic and continued on his way. 

Later, Shuri spied him playing distractedly with the shell. 

“What’s in your pocket,” she asked. 

“Nothing, T’Challa answered unconvincingly.

“Liar,” she said with a laugh but didn’t press the issue for once. 

That evening, as he undressed, T'Challa took the shell out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It did not smell like much of anything, including M’Baku, but having a sort of token from the other man brought him a small comfort he could not explain, and he placed it on his bedside table. 

That night he dreamed. 

_He was in the Jabari throne room once more, with M’Baku leading him by the hand. Glancing at M’Baku and then down at himself, he realized that they were both dressed as if for bed. The Jabari leader let go of his hand as he seated himself on his throne and then spread his legs suggestively wide. T’Challa eagerly climbed onto his lap and straddled his waist. Behind M’Baku the lights of the Jabari holdfast flickered as always, but T’Challa only had eyes for the man in the front of him._

__

__

_M’Baku leaned forward and began kissing his way from T’Challa’s jaw to his collarbone. He slipped off the thin robe T’Challa was wearing and began running a calloused hand down the king’s back until he reached his ass and gave it a fond squeeze. T’Challa moaned and then M’Baku was feeling around his entrance. The king was already wet there, having prepared for this before they headed toward the throne room. M’Baku easily lifted him up, and he slid down on the Jabari leader’s thick cock. T’Challa became lost in how easy it was to ride M’Baku..._

T’Challa’s cheeks were burning as he awoke with a start to the sound of his kimoyo beads pinging loudly. Snatching his bracelet, he realized it was time for his weekly sparring and strategy session with Okoye, and he was already 10 minutes late. Groaning as he also noticed that the front of his sleep pants were damp, he hastily sent an apology to his general and took a quick shower. 

“You’re distracted,” Okoye grunted as she knocked T’Challa down and placed the tip of her training spear on his chest. It was the third time in a row she had done so, and they had barely started sparring. Indeed his attention was elsewhere: despite the shower he could still smell himself and was almost convinced Okoye could smell it too. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” T’Challa said as coolly as possible. Okoye gave him a pointed look. 

“Well, I’m here for when you want to talk,” she said as she offered a hand to help him up.

After training with Okoye, he quickly took his second shower of the day before meeting with Ramonda to review the details of the banquet that had been proposed to celebrate the inclusion of the Jabari in Wakandan affairs. 

“Who is she?” His mother asked suddenly in the middle of discussing seating arrangements.

“What?” T’Challa blurted out, caught off-guard by the question. 

“T’Challa, I know that look,” Ramonda said gently. “You're falling for someone, and it’s someone really special.”

“How can you tell?” He asked in earnest.

“Because it’s the way your father looked at me after he took the herb.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your father always struggled to explain it. We were already engaged to be married when he took on the panther’s mantle, but the first time he saw me afterwards … I’ll never forget it. He acted like he was falling in love with me all over again. He eventually confided in me a secret that is supposed to be kept between Panthers.”

“What’s that?”

“It seems our lady Bast likes to play matchmaker for her chosen warriors.”

“Matchmaker?” T’Challa asked, sincerely perplexed.

“As I understand it, those who become the Black Panther, have… I believe some would call it soul mate.”

“Why didn’t Father tell me?”

“Your father once told me he could tell that Nakia was not your match, but he also didn’t want to influence you and let the relationship run its course.”

“Did he ever tell you how he knew about Nakia and I?”

“No, but he once told me he knew I was Bast’s match for him because I smelled different than other people.”

T’Challa could feel the color draining from his face. 

“T’Challa, what is it?”

“M’Baku smells different to me,” the king all but whispered. He watched as his mother’s eyebrows nearly met her hairline and then as she just as quickly smoothed her face. 

“M’Baku,” she murmured, slightly stunned. “He is nothing if not honorable, and he also saved your life, although that a relationship does not make.”

“What if Bast’s match for me does not want to be with the Black Panther?”

“Trust in Her,” Ramonda said.

***

The night of the banquet, M'Baku entered the palace wearing a pure white fur cape that contrasted beautifully with his dark skin; in addition to this he was wearing a different version of his wooden armor that was so delicately carved T’Challa guessed that it was purely ceremonial. T'Challa couldn't help but stare at M’Baku in earnest even as the members of his delegation filed in, similarly attired in their finest. 

The moment, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed by M'Baku. 

“Do you see something you like, cat king?” He asked quite jovially. 

T'Challa could practically hear Okoye frown from somewhere near his shoulder as M’Baku preened. He ignored the jab and graciously welcomed the Jabari entourage to the dining area. 

As the guest of honor, M’Baku was seated next to him, and T’Challa found that he could barely eat due to nerves. It was difficult not to think of his conversation with Ramonda with his apparent soul mate at his side. 

“Our food not to your liking?” M’Baku asked, interrupting T’Challa’s thoughts. He was no doubt referring to the fact that many of the night’s dishes that had been prepared according to Jabari recipes as a tribute to the visiting tribe. 

As M’Baku proceeded to lean dangerously far into T’Challa’s personal space, almost as if to inspect his plate, the king noticed there was a new… note to M’Baku’s scent. His head began to swim, and he made an attempt to concentrate on anything but this change to M’Baku’s scent. He zeroed in on M’Baku’s heartbeat of all things and hazily realized the Jabari chieftain was not as calm as he appeared. In fact, T’Challa guessed he was probably as nervous as he was. Heartbeats did not lie.

As T’Challa tried to both process this new information and also formulate a tactful reply to M’Baku’s question about the food, the other man suddenly leaned away as a member of his delegation came up to speak to him. With a small sigh, T’Challa took a deep breath, sat up straight, and finally began to eat what was on his plate, grateful that M’Baku’s attention was occupied elsewhere. 

T’Challa endured the rest of the dinner without further incident or commentary from M’Baku. Somewhere around the dessert course, M’Baku excused himself from the table. The king was not overly concerned at first until he got an urgent message from Okoye.

“It seems our Lord M’Baku has wandered off. Do you want me to retrieve him?”

He discreetly looked around and indeed the Jabari leader was nowhere to be seen. 

“Is something wrong, T’Challa?” Ramonda asked, sensing something was amiss.

“M’Baku is missing,” he said. 

“Yes, I had noticed. Go and find him.”

As he patrolled the far ends of the palace garden, there was no sign nor scent of the Jabari leader. He sighed softly to himself as he came to stand where he had started -- beneath a great statue of Bast that gleamed in the moonlight. 

“Guide me, Bast,” he whispered. A moment passed and there was no sound but the rustle of the wind through the surrounding trees. And there he was. He smelled M’Baku before he saw him but took a moment to steel himself and school his features so as not to let the man know he was coming. 

“Looking for me, little king?” He asked a bit too innocently. 

Before waiting for T’Challa’s response, he crowded into T’Challa’s space, as he was beginning to do with increasing frequency, pointedly glanced upwards, and made a noise that indicated he was unimpressed by the immense statue that towered over them. T’Challa immediately noticed that his heartbeat was racing as it was before and couldn’t fight the small smile forming on his face. 

“Something funny, King T’Challa?”

T’Challa shook his head and looked at M’Baku. There were mere inches between them, and before he knew it, M’Baku was closing the distance between them by capturing his lips in a soft kiss. The touch was hesitant at first, but as T’Challa pressed himself against M’Baku and wrapped his arms around his neck, he could feel the other man grow bolder. 

“Say something, little cat,” M'Baku whispered as he took a step back to look at T’Challa. There was a genuine note of concern in his voice. “You've been too quiet.”

“Stop calling me such names,” T’Challa said. 

“No,” M’Baku answered. He moved so that he was standing behind T’Challa and kissed him on the ear. “You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered as he wrapped one muscular arm around the king’s waist and began sucking hard kisses against the back of T’Challa’s neck.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” T’Challa responded breathily as couldn’t help but press back against M’Baku and savor his touch. 

“Tell me more.”

“Not here.” 

As M’Baku showed no signs of letting go of him, T’Challa had tried to steel himself. They needed to move this somewhere else, and soon, but he felt planted to this spot as securely as one of M’Baku’s sacred trees. He forced himself away from M’Baku and used his kimoyo beads to ping Okoye.

“Yes, T'Challa?”

“I found M’Baku.” He watched as her miniature hologram glanced in M'Baku's direction for confirmation. “You and the Dora Milaje are dismissed for the rest of the night.” 

“Understood,” she said eventually after giving him a look that meant he was going to have a lot of explaining to do later.

“Follow me,” he said, reaching for M’Baku’s hand. He pulled him gently out of the garden and toward the palace interior.

As soon as they reached T’Challa’s private quarters and the door was shut behind them, M’Baku pushed T’Challa up against the wall with one hand while undoing the clasp of his cloak with the other. In between passionate kisses, M’Baku began removing pieces of his armor and letting them fall to the floor, where they dropped with an audible thud. As M’Baku stripped, T’Challa realized the new addition to his scent must have been arousal. The knowledge made T’Challa’s blood sing.

As such, T’Challa had barely taken off any of his own clothes when M’Baku picked him up and tucked his legs around his waist. The king gasped as felt M’Baku’s sizable erection against his own and squeezed his legs tighter around the other man. With T’Challa clinging to him, M’Baku sat down on the bed. T’Challa seized his chance to finish undressing and carefully disentangled himself from M’Baku. 

“Stay here, kitten,” M’Baku all but purred and patted his lap with a wicked gleam in his eye. T’Challa raised an eyebrow at M’Baku and looked down his nose as the other man. 

“No,” T’Challa answered, and feeling bold, playfully pushed against M'Baku's shoulders. Instead of yielding in any way, M'Baku stayed upright, grabbed T'Challa by the waist and rolled them onto the bed while hugging T’Challa uncomfortably tight against him. T’Challa attempted to wriggle out of M’Baku’s hold, but the other man simply held him tighter. 

“Must be everything be a fight with you?” T’Challa wheezed. 

“Yes,” M’Baku said with a laugh. 

“But is that really all you’ve got?” T’Challa huffed and succeeded in rolling them over so that their positions were reversed. He ground down against M’Baku’s erection. 

“Enough,” M'Baku said suddenly and without much effort bowled T’Challa over so that he was back on top. 

He pinned T’Challa’s wrists to the bed with one large hand and with the other began palming the king’s hard cock through his underwear. Keening loudly, T’Challa arched his back as M’Baku continued to grope him with increasing roughness. His cock had been leaking for some time and he was suddenly certain that he was about to come just from this. 

His eyes met M’Baku’s and he realized the other man was watching him intently. Without a word, the Jabari leader added just a little more pressure to T’Challa’s groin, and with a gasp the king sagged against the mattress as he came in his underwear and the thin pants he wore under his tunic, both of which which M’Baku had prevented him from taking off. 

He expected teasing from M'Baku, and shyly meeting the other man’s gaze, he realized the other man only had a determined look on his face. T'Challa glanced down at M'Baku's cock and there was a wet spot forming where he was kneeling just beside T'Challa. T'Challa quickly removed his ruined clothes and reached for the lube in his bedside table. He pushed the bottle into M'Baku's hand. 

He watched as M’Baku expertly coated his fingers in the liquid and then felt the other man start feeling around his rim. He laid back and closed his eyes as M’Baku opened him with one finger and then another. He realized M’Baku was just now adding a third finger, and feeling the heat rush his groin once more, firmly gripped the base of his cock to keep from coming. 

“Again? Already?” M’Baku asked incredulously as he stilled his fingers. 

“Yes,” T’Challa groaned as he ground against M’Baku’s hand.

“On your knees,” T’Challa, he growled as he suddenly took his fingers away from his entrance. Confused, but doing as he was told, T’Challa got on his hands and knees in front of M’Baku. He felt a wide hand slide between his inner thighs and realized M’Baku was slicking them up. Then there was the sensation of M’Baku inserting cock between his legs, and catching on, T’Challa squeezed his thighs together to provide friction.

M’Baku began thrusting, slowly at first as he figured out a rhythm. T’Challa couldn’t help but pant as the head of M’Baku’s cock dragged against his. There was a weight against his back as M’Baku settled against him and placed a few surprisingly sweet kisses against his neck. It was not enough.

“Use your teeth,” T’Challa whined. “Mark me.” 

He wasn’t sure if the other man would do it, but M’Baku wasted no time biting the tender spot between his neck and shoulder.

T’Challa came again.

He felt M’Baku release between his thighs. 

“For one so small, you exhaust me,” M’Baku muttered as they rearranged themselves to lay side by side. 

“Are you admitting defeat?” T’Challa asked.

“Never!” M’Baku insisted and then hugged T’Challa to him tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have comments, please be gentle. This is the first thing I've posted to AO3 in almost a year. I had a bad brain year last year that was addressed with a much-needed medication adjustment, but I've concluded that that adjustment really screwed with my ability to follow through on certain tasks. I feel really proud of myself for actually finishing something, even if it's this goofy thing.
> 
> ETA 5/9 - I've gotten some really nice feedback on this fic over the past month or so. If you made it this far and you'd like to see a continuation/follow-up, let me know, although I'm not making any promises.


End file.
